Bloody
by Stitchar
Summary: He wasn't sure if he was dreaming...what have they done to him? -inspired by the Japanese Takara Knockout toy for RiD- Warning: Self-harm viewer discretion is advised
1. Fundus

The signal had shown him where the next fugitive had gone. Bumblebee found it frustrating that whenever he and his team got closer to the target, it disappeared-thus leading them to another fallen trail. They figured out the pattern though, as the target's signal was close to the river, which signified them that their fugitive hides in the river. Deep it seems.

Bumblebee quickly thought up of a strategy to help capture this elusive fugitive. He split his team to help cover any possible future route to where their target would go, depending on where Fixit directs them to. if the pattern had given any clues, their target seems to go with the current of the river.

Confident enough that his own team would take care of themselves, Bumblebee followed another lead of the target, directed by Fixit, which wasn't too far away from where he was. He'll have to be careful though as he doesn't know how dangerous this fugitive would be.

The organic trees that he had grown up with were really helpful as he blended in. These dense forest helped covered his tracks and signal during the war, saving his own aft from time to time from Decepticons.

While weak, it was still a thankful blessing.

But that was long time ago now, Bumblebee mused as he found himself in his own memories. It was in the past, no matter how much he had assured himself, looking up to the blue lit sky, as if Starscream and his flying Vehicons were still roaming in the sky.

_"Lieutenant,"_ Strongarm's voice had jerked him back to the reality,_ "I got a message from Fixit that the target is few meters away from you."_

Few meters, what're the odds in that?

"Got it, Strongarm." Bumblebee replied, "Round up the others and head towards to where I am. I'll try to distract the target."

With enough confirmation, Bumblebee turned his communication unit off, not wanting to alert his target and neared towards to the location. He was pretty thankful that the forest was covering his tracks well as well as the fact that his target doesn't seem to be paying attention to its own surroundings-focusing on something ahead while mumbling and scratching.

Concerned, Bumblebee approached closer, trying to understand what his target was saying.

"No, no, no, no" the fugitive mumbled, scratching the paint as the armor screamed in pain, "ugly, so ugly..."

To his horror, he saw his target's body was covered in scratches-scratches of self-harm littered across the red and silver armor, many seemed infected and some were freshly scratched. What was more horrifying is the fact that the large scar were marred to the thick, limp tail as if a sharp blade had tried to gash through it.

A harsh sob had made him think if Alchemore really house the criminals.

"Hands up," Bumblebee made his presence as he pushed that thought away for later. Right now, distracting his target is important, "I have my team coming here soon, so don't try to get away."

The said fugitive froze, body tensed in reflex as his target heard his voice. Slowly, the target turned its helm around, red familiar pupils that Bumblebee was sure he hadn't seen in such a long time was staring back at him.

Unicron's claws went through his spark.

_No._

_No way._

_It can't be._

"B...Bumblebee..." red and silver mech whimpered, his black and red optics staring back at him fearfully, pale face filled with scars and scratches of self-harm, "Wh...wha..."

"No-" Bumblebee choked, "No, it can't be. They told me you died!"

The red and silver mech shook, lubricant starting to stream down his scarred face, claws scratching the paints as if it was the most diseased thing. Jagged tail twitched, showing the discomfort of being still for a long time. He started to babbled in mixed and broken sentences, only to sob again as more lubricant came out in whether of relief or fear.

Bumblebee just dropped everything; his weapon, his position, and his mission as he rushed towards to the mech whom had disappeared from his life. How is this possible? They told him that he had died! Why did they lie to him? What had they done to him?

He tried to take everything in, to make sure himself that this is real and not a dream. Here, is his old friend, alive and yet broken by the torture that he will never uncover. His EM field is pulsing with life; the warmth that he was touching to, is real. Hot, fresh tears of lubricant, is real as he felt the mech burrowed deep into his shoulder, hugging him tightly as if he would disappear from his life.

"Knockout..." Bumblebee choked as he tried to sort his emotion, "What have they done to you?"


	2. Eskhara

Chapter 2  
Eskhara

**AN**: Due to popular demand for the sequel, I made a second chapter for this story. I won't promise that it's good or bad, but it is still mentioning few sensitive material like trauma and self-harm.

Viewer discretion is still advised. Read and Enjoy at your own risk.

* * *

Trying to convince Strongarm that Knock Out is his old friend took longer than he had expected, but at least both Sideswipe and Grimlock didn't ask about his judgments as they both understand that their said 'target' is not fit to be placed in the cold capsule.

Bumblebee had a few beefs with Fixit; whether if he was aware he was housing mechs and femmes that has mental issues and classify them as criminals or wasn't aware of the dark secret that Alchemore had kept. Fixit's horrifying shock to the marred and scarred mech had given him enough clues that it was one of the latter as he patched his friend up on the medical berth they had scavenged from the broken Alchemore.

Knock Out had calmed down, which was a good relief for the yellow mech, since he wasn't keen on letting his old friend go as he felt Knock Out relax against him and shut down; possibly by either Energon loss or malnourishment. He was gladder that Steeljaw didn't lift his servo onto Knock Out (that would be screaming more trouble) yet.

As his old friend slept, Bumblebee took his time to study the Ex-con's body. While patched to help stop the bleeding, he couldn't help, but traced the scars around the arm, trying to imagine what Knock Out had gone through.

Knock Out, confident, sarcastic and proud of his own paint job had been one of his great friends next to Predaking and Megatron after the Great War. While the others had withered and taken by the Death's time, Knock Out was the only one still with him through thick and thin. While older than him, Knock Out didn't let his age detour him.

Knock Out was also the anchor in Cybertron when Bumblebee felt alone and all of his friends were busy with life. Knock Out may be the only Medic and Undertaker for the Cybertron during its revival; he still took his time to visit Bumblebee and just drive together.

Bumblebee found himself clouded in a swirl of memories; the places they hang out to, the banter they takes, the rush of adrenaline they share as they race each other, the comfort they share, and the loss they share. It felt like it was them who were against the Cybertron world, as they stood together in the lime light of Crystal City, where they had last seen each other.

When Knock Out had disappeared that next day, Bumblebee had thought that Knock Out had went to his own errands until it had been days where he began to worry and had asked them where his friend went.

They told him that Knock Out had died.

_Died._

Bumblebee still remembered how painful his spark felt when he heard that word; his only friend that he shared secrets with were gone, his only anchor-gone. He still remembered how he mourned and mourned for his old friend, begging them to let him see his old friend for just one last time.

They didn't let him.

Instead, they assured him that he is in the better place with Primus and had lightly pushed him back into the society of Cybertron that had been flourished through time. And Bumblebee had believed them, working for the street cop to help distract from his loss.

But now, Knock Out is here, more alive than ever, but had changed. The scars tell many stories of pain and torture and Bumblebee can tell that Knock out had been self-inflicting himself long time ago. How long, he wasn't sure and he was afraid for the answer, the terrifying truth that made Bumblebee think in the area of 'what ifs'.

If only he had been with him that day before his disappearance. If only he had been quick enough to save his friend. If only he had fought more against them to find his friend. If only he hadn't believed them.

Bumblebee, trying to look for distractions away from his thoughts, looked at the scratches on Knock Out's armor, seeing grimes and dirt covering Knock Out's once beautiful armor. Maybe he'll help Knock Out clean? Knock Out would surly love a good bath after he woke up from his slumber.

Knock Out twitched, as he lay mobile on the medical berth, sometimes mumbling coherent words. Bumblebee gave a gentle squeeze to his old friend's scarred servo, hoping it would assure the ex-Con that his old friend is here. However, despite how gentle he squeezed his friend's servo, he felt Knock Out whimper as he was stuck in his own nightmare that he won't be able to see.

His spark broke down.

"It's going to be okay," Bumblebee hushed, as he felt nauseous feeling creeping up to his throat and helm, lubricant falling like fallen stars, "Everything is going to be okay."

But is it?


	3. Gylt

Chapter 3  
Gylt

_**AN: Warning: sensitive material like mental illness, self-harm, and any mentionable is in this story. **_

_**Viewer discretion is still advised.**_

* * *

It had been days since Knock Out was unconscious and it took a while to explain to both Denny and Russell about his condition. Bumblebee love humans, he really does, but they can be annoying if you don't give them the right information they need, which in a sense they were doing right now. At least he was glad that he sent Grimlock and Strongarm to patrol since he couldn't find Sideswipe in the midst of the vintage shop.

"So, you're saying that this big, red and silver Sideswipe look-alike was your friend?"

"He's not just a friend, Russell." Bumblebee vented, feeling bitter taste in his mouth plate, "he's was...a family, a brother. We were really close."

Yes, Bumblebee mused to himself, they were very close, much closer than Optimus Prime and Ratchet and much closer than Orion Pax and Megatronous. It was funny to see how much their relationship had improved through time, but Bumblebee pushed that thought away, as he needed to focus on helping his friend to recover.

"So...what happened to the big guy? I never saw Fixit being so spooked by this." Oh, Denny, such a kind human.

"I think..." Bumblebee looked at Russell, debating if this information is worth mentioning, "this matter is best discussed when Russell is not here."

"What! Why?" The human child cried out, but Denny, understanding the situation held his son's shoulder. Bumblebee's at least glad at that, he's not good when it comes to talking serious subject with young children (There are things he doesn't tell Raf either when he was on field).

"Why don't you go on a field trip with Sideswipe for a while?" Denny convinced, "I'll tell you about it when you came back."

Accepting the advice, Russell ran off to find his supposedly guardian, calling for his name to go on a road trip. As Russell had disappeared along with the roar of engine (Bumblebee really need to keep a hold of this red teenager), the main vintage field was silent with only the leader and the father.

"So..." Denny cut in, "What happened to Fixit and the big guy in the back? 'Cause I have a feeling that this is something serious."

Bumblebee cycled and vented again to help ease his tension.

"Fixit is trying to...accept to the concept that Alchemore might've house mechs and femmes who're mentally ill and not just convicts like Thunderhoof and Steeljaw."

He saw Denny's eyes widen at that notion. He couldn't blame the human, he at first thought that they were all convicts that had done many terrible things, but Grimlock was enough proof that he wasn't arrested for doing high crimes; just property damage, but seeing Knock Out was more enough proof that there is more that Alchemore is hiding.

Now that Bumblebee had said that, he wondered if Steeljaw was arrested for something he hadn't done. Thunderhoof makes sense as a Mafia boss, but he was pretty sure that Maifa bosses don't stay in 'high security prison' unless it's a high crime.

Pushing that thought to his 'think later' area, he continued, "As for Knock Out..." he paused, "He's...in critical condition, both mentally and physically. I've never seen so many scars of self-harm in my life Denny. It's terrifying and it made me hurt even more that I didn't try enough to help him"

Denny didn't say anything, but he patted Bumblebee's leg armor to help him feel assured. Bumblebee felt thankful for that, as he knew that this information would probably rattle Russell's mind.

"We'll just have to try much harder then." Denny replied, "Try harder to help your old friend to understand that he's not alone in this world. He did the same with you right? You should do the same."

Bumblebee nodded his helm in thanks. Yes, he'll help Knock Out recover from his condition. But he was skeptic on how much trust Knock Out had on him; he failed his old friend for not trying hard enough and the guilt he had for not staying with his friend much longer still lingered.

He then felt guilty when his thoughts ran back to Terrashock and Filtch. Filth probably was Kleptomaniac when it comes to something shiny and she might've have limited education, based on her broken sentences that Denny had explained while he was alone. Terrashock must've been suffering from either panic attack or had Anxiety Disorder when they captured him. That thought made him angry with himself for being ignorant of their condition.

If only Jazz was here, he would've asked him to request them to provide a medical officer or psychologist to help their condition. Because arresting someone with medical issues, wasn't an excuse to send them to prison.

He'd love to bring Terrashock and Filtch out from their capsule to help with their condition, but they neither have experienced medical officer (other an Fixit) nor do they have psychologist to help with their condition. He felt his spark twisting at this thought, but he knew that he was making a right choice, as he wanted to help them one by one.

Right now, Knock Out is his top priority.


	4. Memor

Chapter 4  
Memor

**AN:** Possibly the last chapter. Not sure. I also forgot to mention that I have a Tumblr page, so you can ask me on anything regarding to any stories you've read from my profile. I don't post stories on Tumblr, but if you want, you can share it or let me know about it, I love to receive opinions about any stories I have written so far. (bad timing when writing this story, I know. I'm really sorry for this...)

_**Sensitive material like self-harm is still in effect. Read at your own risk.**_

* * *

Knock Out wasn't sure how long he had been out, but the memories of his time before was much harsh and real. He didn't bother picking himself up from the comfort of his berth, fearing that he was back with them.

He thought saw a memory of his old friend, standing in front of him, gun in his servo; pointing at him like their time in the field. He thought he was dreaming, he thought he was hallucinating. He through he was them coming back to collect him.

But that warmth felt real, his voice sound real, he himself was felt real. And Knock Out refused to believe himself that he was safe, he wasn't sure if he was safe, but his body couldn't take the shock of the comfort his old friend gave, he shut down and couldn't remember any of it.

He slowly online himself, not wanting to alert anyone who had brought him here. He slowly picked his arm up and looked at his scars that he had done to himself. Some were, surprisingly were patched up and he wondered if they had patched his scars to prevent him from dying. A flash of sight had covered his vision and he found himself seeing his arm still covered in dirty void. It was dirty and it made him ugly.

_"Do it,"_ They said, _"Try harder to take them off."_

So he scratched, scratched and scratched and scratched, but the dirty void won't go away. He felt pain shooting up from his arm, but he ignored it, trying to get rid of that void out form his arm. He heard them laugh, he heard them sneer, he heard their insult. He heard, he heard, he heard, he heard, but he ignored them. They kept on jeering, they kept on encouraging, they kept on laughing.

He heard them laugh. He saw their sickly, dead blue optics that covers their madness. He sees their familiar shape; thin, large, pointy, blocky, and sleek. He sees their familiar paint, blue to white, red to green. They kept on laughing. He saw them pointing at him of his misfortune. They kept on jeering.

They kept on and on and on and on.

And he kept on scratching and scratching and scratching and scratching.

But his task was stopped abruptly and the voices of his tormentor had hushed. He saw and felt grey servos gently laid on his brightly blue servos. Knock Out froze, are they here? Are they going to torture him more?

Knock Out stopped his scratching, deciding that he'll do it when they were truly gone, and studied the servo more in detail. It seemed familiar and the warm touch had brought him back to the haze before his 'moving'. Who is it?

He looked over to the source of the servos and froze. Yellow and black armor, along with a familiar cyan blue that no mechs has, while the mech may have changed and grown-up, Knock Out can still make out whom it is.

"Bu..Bumble..." He tried to call his friend's name; his stutter was hesitant and quivered in fear. Is he one of them? Or did they have disguised themselves into him to torture him more? What more do they want? They took everything; his pride, his place, his mind. What more?

"It's alright." They hushed, as they caressed his servos in comfort matter, "Everything's okay. It's going to be okay. You're safe now."

They even sounded like him, but Knock Out couldn't help it, but whined at the familiar voice of his old friend. He felt himself move and was engulfed into warmth that he hadn't felt in such a long time. He wrapped his arm around his neck, not wanting this to be a dream. If this is their way of torturing him, he hoped this hadn't last, as the feeling of comfort was real as he cried for a long time.

"Ar...are you..." Knock Out shivered, afraid of the answer, "Are you real?"

He held his breath when he saw his friend's faceplate, covered in pain and relief as he squeezed his scarred blue servo again.

"I'm real as I can be, Knocky."

_Knocky. _

He hadn't heard that nickname in such a long time. They had never used that nickname; they never knew it, as Bumblebee was the only one who uses it when they were alone and when they were together in private. A sign; that no others use but only him.

He's_ real. _

He's_ here._

_He's here._

"B...Bee-bee." Knock Out shook, as he used his friend's old nickname he hadn't used in a long time, lubricant rushing down his marred face, raising his unoccupied servo to cup his friend's face "You're here. You're here..."

He was engulfed into warmth again, as Bumblebee shushed and rocked him back and forth slowly, murmuring sweet nothings that everything is going to be okay. Knock Out believed his every word as he hugged his long-time friend tightly, not wanting to let him go.

And for a long time, he felt safe. He felt warm. And most of all, he felt pure again.

But the tainted touch caused by them, still linger through his frame as he shed his pain away. He heard them whisper through the darkness as he was rocked back into sleep. He panicked as he was going back into slumber again, to face his memories again, but the soft murmur of his friend seemed to have pushed them away. They have become silent, but they weren't gone forever.

He felt them claw into his frame.

_"We're not done with you,"_ They hissed, their blue optics glinting with fresh hate, _"we're not **done**."_


	5. Poena

Chapter 5  
Poena

**AN:-laughs nervously- Did I say that the fourth chapter was last...I said it might be, but hey, look! New Chapter!**

** So...no one's not going to guess who _'they'_ is? 'cause I don't even know who _'they'_ is at all. Child of Jon Snow asked a really good question here. ;)**

* * *

It wasn't another week until Knock Out came out from his emergency stasis, feeling a bit better and able to ignore the stinging pain from his wrists. Everything was musky, and smelled of familiar, mineral earth that he had grown to like during his time in Decepticon. Knock Out had to say that he quite literally missed Earth much more than he missed his old home in Cybertron.

He was even thankful that Bumblebee was next to him, putting his own work aside just to make sure he was okay. Bumblebee is his only anchor here right now, his only sanity away from hurt, away from those tormentors that seemed to be latched to his frame.

But seeing Bumblebee much more older and taking care of two teenagers, a dinobot and a Minicon was a huge hit in the spark for Knock Out. Time and Space seemed to have gone ahead without him, forgetting that he even exists. It was even hard to see that Bumblebee had suffered much more, having to lose all of his old friends who had withered in time. It nearly almost reminded him of Big O when he was contemplating with life.

Turning his attention away from his yellow friend, he looked at his patched wrist to see that it was crudely done-which he nearly tsked at such work. As a veteran medic, it was mediocre at best, but it was done enough to keep it from bleeding.

Funny thing was, the dirty void was gone-clean as if it was completely gone from existence. Just like his tormentors who weren't here, did not exist in life and only remain within his processor.

Knock Out was afraid to tell Bumblebee about this. He didn't want to push his only comfort away, leaving him alone with the tormentors that were eerily silent. They only attack when he's alone, when no one's watching. He can see them watching him in the shadows, crawling near his medical berth, swiping at his pedes like turbo-cats.

Ignoring their presence, and grimacing when the blue one swiped at his pede, he turned his attention back at Bumblebee, who was looking him over with Energon in his servo.

"I-I'm fine, Bee." Knock Out frowned at his stuttering and his croaked voice. He couldn't remember when was the last time he was able to talk. Bumblebee said nothing, but instead held Knock Out's servo as if he wanted to make sure the newly made wounds were healing nicely. Along the way, he handed Energon to Knock Out.

"I don't exactly know when was the last time you had refueled during your run," Bumblebee replied, gesturing the Energon in Knock Out's servo, "but getting into emergency stasis three times probably took much of you."

Knock Out choked in surprise, three times! Three times he went into emergency stasis and he still survived. The odd in this was very surprising, but Knock Out didn't feel exactly happy about this, as he knew that getting stuck into emergency stasis multiple times is not really healthy for any mech and femme. He's even more surprised that his withered frame would take this much damage.

He took a tentative bite out of the glowing blue Energon, only for him to harsh it down like a crocodile. He couldn't remember when was the last time he ate, and it took him a moment that he was very hungry.

"Whoa! Whoa! Clam down." Bumblebee hushed as he laid his servo on his scarred servo, "Don't want you to choke on Energon while you recover. I don't want to add choking on the list."

Knock Out chuckled a bit airily, looked over Bumblebee where the green one is lazing over Bumblebee's shoulder. It stared at him, it's arm wrapping around Bumblebee like he was the most precious treasure that it refused to let go. Blue eyes snarling at him as if he would melt, but Knock Out quickly ignored them, he didn't want Bumblebee to know that he's seeing things.

"Knock Out? Are you alright?" Bumblebee's voice snapped Knock Out's gaze from the green one, who was still hissing at him.

"Y-yeah," he replied, "j-just dazed, I-I guess."

Bumblebee hummed as Knock Out continued eating his Energon, this time a bit slowly as he felt Energon spreading through his system. Knock Out relaxed as he felt the effect of the Cybertonian food thrumming through his system. He missed this greatly, better than any oils he had in his lifestream.

"S-so," Knock Out swallowed, a habit he had taken from humans, "w-what I've m-missed?"

"Other than finding each other? Not much." Bumblebee sighed, "One of my teammates, who's a Minicon took a huge hit that he was assigned to a ship that may have housed any wrongly accused mechs and femmes. So far we've only met Terrashock and Filtch that may be suffering the same way you do."

"O-oh..." Knock Out mumbled, not knowing whom this Terrashock or Filtch was. He guessed that they're like him; tortured, scarred, and hurt. He flinched when Bumblebee moved a bit, the green one hissing at him.

"Sorry." Bumblebee whispered when he saw his friend flinch, but Knock Out waved his apology away. He doesn't deserve it, not really when he was this scarred, this hurt, this broken.

Both of them didn't say anything, feeling more awkward than before. They just don't know where to start, as well as what to talk about. Bumblebee knows that Knock Out doesn't want to talk about his time with them as the same with Knock Out, afraid to even make a peep on to where he had disappeared.

However, their odd get-together was interrupted when the small orange minicon, Fixit, Knock Out learned by hearing Bumblebee answering minicon's frantic chatter. Knock Out wasn't sure if he was thankful or not for breaking the moment between them.

"Sorry, Knock Out." Bumblebee grunted as Fixit left, "There has been another...life signal in the scan and I have to check it out. Don't want government or any human know of our existence."

Knock Out felt odd as he heard this...weren't Autobots still in legion with Earth?

Bumblebee must've seen his confusion as he clarified, "My team and I weren't supposed to be stationed in Earth. You could say that I...may have used Space Bridge Illegally to get to Earth."

Wait...Space Bridging was illegal?

Knock Out doesn't even remember that using Space Bridge was illegal. Not allowed because of low Energon ration; yes, but as a law to make it illegal was something new.

"I-I see..." Knock Out murmured, "I-I think y-you s-should head out to p-pick up the life signal..."

Bumblebee nodded as he told Knock Out to rest as he headed out, off to lead his "official" Team to the unknown life source. Knock Out did as he was told, but instead of resting, he was thinking.

Space Bridging had been illegal; this was shocking news to the scarred mech. Space bridging was one of the most used method in both Golden, War, and Recovery Day. Golden because it was invented to make shipment to other planets and meeting point easier; War to reach the battle front or location easier; Recovery because of sending and retrieving any refugee easier.

Only to make it illegal was enough to turn warning signs in his processor. Knock Out gripped his marred servos together nervously as he looked at the unchanging brown dirt.

_"He'll leave you."_ One hissed, suddenly, grabbing his arm. Knock Out's chest were squeezed and weighted down by unseen force as he tried to calm his breath down. But the squeezing doesn't stop, as he struggled against the unknown force away from his neck.

His red optics looked back at the familiar blue, which was grabbing his arm, its grin wide and psychotic.

_"He'll leave you."_ The blue one hissed, scratching his arm, _"He'll leave you behind when he knows how ugly your are."_

"S-shut up." Knock Out growled as he tried to push the blue one away along with the green one that was on top of him, "Shut up, you don't know anything."

_"He is ours."_ The red-green hissed, near to his audio, _"He is ours to keep. He doesn't need you."_

"SHUT UP!" Knock Out screamed, clamping his servos to his audios, "SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!"

Suddenly, the air felt light, and he could breath again as he looked around the now empty room. Spark's tight beating rang through his audios, as his intakes were fast, still cycling the air through his vents as he felt his vision getting blurry and clear at the same time.

_Something's not right._


End file.
